As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. “Take her limbs again. ’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. " "Is the poor lady alive?" asked Mrs. .
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